The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.
Albert Camus
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Light Years
I've used hammers made out of wood
I have played games with pieces and rules
I've deciphered tricks at the bar
But now your gone
I haven't figured out why
I've come up with riddles
And jokes about war
I've figured out numbers and what there for
I've understood feelings
And I've understood words
But how could you be taken away
And wherever you've gone
And where ever we might go
It don't seem fair
Today just disappeared
Your lights reflected now
Reflected from a far
We were but stones
Your light made us stars
With heavy breath
Awakens regrets
Back pages and days alone the could've been spent
Together but we were miles apart
Every inch between becomes light years now
No time to be void
Or save up on life
Uh you've got to spend it all
And wherever you've gone
And where ever we might go
It don't seem fair
You seem to like it here
Your lights reflected now
Reflected from a far
We were but stones
Your light made us stars
And wherever you've gone
And wherever we might go
It don't seem fair
Today just disappeared
Your lights reflected now
Reflected from a far
We were but stones
Your light made us stars
Repeat till end